Since I Changed My Name
by Yami Arike
Summary: Songfic, using lyrics from Sugarcult's "Since I Changed My Name". Trowa can't sleep at night... maybe it has something to do with a certain blond Gundam Pilot. Some in depth Trowa thoughts, cute innocent little Quatre for the fangirls, and a whole lotta s


I do not own Gundam Wing. If I did, I'd kick Heero's ass at Gundam Battle Assault 2 on my Playstation.  
A song fic, yes, and a mushy fic too.. lyrics are Sugarcult's "Since I Changed My Name", a depressing  
little song that sound's a lot like some twisted lullaby....  
R/R!!!!  
  
  
SINCE I CHANGED MY NAME   
  
The lithe form shifted restlessly for the thousandth time.  
//I couldn't sleep last night  
//my ears were ringing in my head  
"K'so.." the exhausted unibanged pilot grit, sighing. He was always like this after battles.  
"I can still hear their screams.. and then the silence, that awful silence…"  
//best friends with the boogie-man  
//I may be better off here dead  
How could they do this? How could they survive not only their battles, but the psychological ones always racing through their heads? And why did they all think about it differently?  
//running on empty once again  
//too tired for tears I once dread  
Wufei wanted honorable revenge. Heero.. well, Trowa didn't know much about Heero except the bitter anger the stoic boy always presented. Duo was a mystery as well, for he was the cheeriest of the five, always acting like nothing was wrong. But he was Shinigami.. the messenger of Death. It was so warped…  
//sink deep into these magic dreams  
//while I blast off in my bed  
And… Quatre..  
Trowa sighed. He'd been trying so hard to not think of Quatre like that. But he couldn't help it. His little blond angel was so sweet, so empathetic.. it was hard to resist.  
"Nnn… ai shiteru, Little One." Trowa muttered, a confession that would never reach the ears of whom it was meant for.  
//and you know I played it all in here  
//where everyone hides their darkest shades of fears  
Quatre, as Trowa thought, shouldn't be involved in any of this. He was so fragile.. so pure. Trowa knew the Arabian opposed this whole war.. and yet here he was, at the very center of it. Gundam Pilots. A blessing and a curse intertwined so intricately none could tell which was which.  
//and I threw my whole night down the drain  
//you know cause everyone says I'm not the same  
They were the Elite, the weapons, the machines. Don't love. Don't feel. Just fight. Fight until you die.   
"Forget it all. Ever since I met the others- every since I met Quatre - I've been different." Trowa muttered, stretching his arms.  
//since I changed my name  
//three hours later and I'm staring at the ceiling still  
And yet.. in the midst of a gory and heartless war, Trowa had rediscovered himself- with the help of the blond. It was amazing that someone whom publicly detested emotion lit up at the mere thought of Quatre's sunny smiles.  
//xanex does nothing more but calm the sleeping thrill  
//turning the pillows round and round to find the cold spot for my head  
"Trowa?"  
Startled, the emerald-eyed boy looked up. Quatre shut the door quietly behind him. The petit blond looked adorable in lilac pj's.   
"Quatre? What are you doing up so late?" concern flickered through Trowa's voice. He was very protective of his Arabian.  
//ah, bless, my only friend  
//and you know I played it all in here  
"I couldn't sleep.. and I heard you moving around.. Trowa, can I-"  
"Can you what?"  
"Can I sleep in your bed?" the blond asked meekly. Rose highlighted his cherub cheeks. Trowa smiled slightly, nodding.  
//where everyone hides their darkest shades of fears  
//and I threw my whole night down the drain  
Eagerly Quatre climbed in, sliding under the white sheets and forest-green blanket smoothly. He laid his head on the pillow, facing the taller pilot, aqua eyes big and soft.  
"Trowa… can I ask you something?"  
"Of course."  
"…. Can a boy love another boy..?"  
//you know cause everyone says that I'm not the same  
//and everyone turns tricks for fickle fame  
"Quatre.. w-why do you want to know that?" Trowa stuttered, propping himself up on his arm. Quatre went redder.  
"Because I- I feel.. it's just.. when I.." the Arabian couldn't say it. Trowa's eyes grew dark with shadows, and he laid a hand on Quatre's shoulder.  
"Yes?"  
"You're special to me, Trowa. I don't know. That's why I asked. Being around you isn't like being around anyone else.. my heart pounds and the only thing I can concentrate is the fact you're near." the blond gushed out.  
//I feel my body's lost control  
//my knees get weak as I drift away  
"Quatre.. I.." Trowa stammered, searching for words. The blond took it as a rejection, going to climb out of the bed. The Heavyarms pilot caught his wrist, pulling Quatre back down into the mattress and into a heated kiss. The shorter boy's eyes widened, but closed quickly in ecstasy as Trowa's arms wrapped around him securely. Every late-night fantasy and stolen daydream was put into this kiss, making it electric and fresh and pure for it was their first.  
//and it gets darker, darker  
//dreaming's where I am  
"Tell me I'm not dreaming.." Trowa murmured, pulling away. Quatre smiled.  
"You're not."  
Trowa chuckled slightly, brushing his lips against the other's.  
"Ai shiteru, Quatre."  
"Ai shiteru, Trowa."  
  
_____end______ 


End file.
